Preternatural abandoned
by Rubber Ducky Loser
Summary: xScenex now has this story on her profile, and is updated there. Harry is sent into a world where he takes the full roll of Neville. He goes to his seventh year, and overhears something about an artifact called Gaia's Mirror. What's this have to do with V
1. To Wish Upon

Disclaimer: I don't anything but the plot which is shared with xscenex

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**STORY ABANDONED! Go to xScenex's account to read the updated story.**

**A/N: NEW AND OLD READERS, PLEASE READ THIS! This story had been abandoned on this account. Rubber Ducky Loser has lost her internet, and I (Min, the second writer of the story) have taken the story onto my account so that I can update it personally. If you wish to go there, type in the penname xScenex in the search bot to find me or go to Rubber Ducky Loser's favorite author list. I have re-written some of the chapters that are posted here, and they have a few different scene's and I've fixed some spelling mistakes. Plus, there are more chapters on the one on my account. Please go there instead of here - this one will NOT be updated. - Min, aka xScenex**

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It was a night like any other. The sky was cloudless, the pure, twinkling stars glittering distantly in the unknown abyss. It was warm -- a mid-summers eve, where the wind wound about against the long blades of grass, causing them to billow and quiver in a rhythmic dance, the fireflies drifting about playing hide and seek while the chirping of the crickets sounded in the distance. The air smelt of honeysuckle and grass, with a faint hint of standing water. It was a beautiful evening.

But beautiful things are always there to cross out the ugly.

Inside the house of Number four, Privet Drive, the tranquil setting outside opposed the feelings of a certain boy.

Namely, this boy was Harry Potter.

Now, he wasn't a normal boy - no, indeed he wasn't. In fact, he wasn't normal by any standards. ANY. Get the capitalization?

Harry Potter was known by many names. The-Boy-Who-Lived, Freak, Boy, the Heir of Slytherin, among other things. I bet you cant guess why he has all of those names, eh?

Allow me to explain a bit.

This boy was born to Lily Evans and James Potter, who were a witch and a wizard. Yes, yes, it's true, they exist. After Lily had married James, they became entangled in a huge war against an evil man named Voldemort. Or, the Dark Lord Voldemort, if you'd like to get technical. Thrice had they defied him.

Soon, a prophecy came along in history, causing abrupt problems with two families. The Potter's and the Longbottom's. The prophecy stated: 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ...' Since both of the families had a child on it's way, going to be born 'as the seventh month dies'; this concluded a problem.

So the two families went into hiding, but as fate would have it, there was a traitor amidst the light. Giving away the information of the Potter's location, Peter Pettigrew had betrayed them, thus allowing the Dark Lord to find them and murder the adults. But as he turned his wand upon the youngest Potter, he found his own killing curse flung back at him. Too surprised to do anything, the dark wizard had been ripped from his own body, leaving him nothing more than a spirit awaiting life.

Long story there. We'll fill that in at a later point.

After having his parents murdered, Harry Potter, the last of the Potter family, was sent to live with his Aunt and Uncle who were completely normal, thank you very much. They completely despised anything to do with magic, therefore, they outcast their nephew and attempted to 'squash' the magic right out of him.

The years had passed, and Harry grew up. At the tender age of eleven, although many preventions had been attempted, the boy was sent a letter from a magical school by the name of Hogwarts.

He couldn't pass the opportunity down and with the help of Hagrid, was able to enroll. He befriended the half giant, collected his school supplies, and acquired his familiar, Hedwig shortly before he was off to the school.

As he attended Hogwarts, he befriended a muggle-born witch named Hermione Granger, a full-blood wizard named Ronald Weasley, and became enemies with a boy named Draco Malfoy. As the years went by, he found out his heritage, discovered magical abilities, and learned just how unfair life could be. He also found out about his Godfather in his third year of attendance.

But happiness was something that came with a price, whether or not you want it. In Harry's case, he didn't want it. Classmates died, the Dark Lord rose back into power, though steadily and discreetly, and the boy's Godfather died. He lost trust in his mentor, his friends, and eventually, he fell into the addicting depression that now plagued his life. But the last event that had taken place really put a blow to his hope: his Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, had been murdered.

This is where we will find the older version of Harry Potter, sitting in his room at Number Four, Privet Drive, after coming home from his sixth year of school, aged beyond his years. He was not an innocent, carefree teenager as most would think of him to be. There was more to him than meets the eye.

And he hated it.

Sighing heavily, the raven haired boy sat down on his bed and stared out at the winking stars in the sky beyond the rooftops. It had been almost a week since he'd been back at Privet Drive. He had planned to leave there, but he couldn't find it in his heart to follow out with his plans. Even though there were horcrux's to find, he just couldn't find it in himself to get up and leave.

The depression had settled in worse than before. He was thinner than he'd ever been; his pale skin was stretched against his gaunt face, causing his emerald eyes to shine out as if in a desperate plea for help. His long, bony fingers shook with constant anxiousness as he tiredly ran them through his dark locks that surrounded his face and fell messily but elegantly against his shoulders.

If his aunt, uncle, or cousin noticed these changes, they hadn't said anything, although Harry had caught his aunt watching him from the distance every once in a while. But even though his family hadn't noticed the differences in him, his friends sure had. They had berated him for not eating and allowing himself to waste away the month before they were forced to go home, leaving behind the loving castle of Hogwarts, never to return for their last year of school.

The boy didn't listen to them though. He was lost in his own thoughts. Even the sight of meat had his stomach churning.

Harry allowed a small yawn to escape his lips as he stood up slowly. He peered around his room for a moment, taking in all his belongings strewn around the room. He checked to see if he had his wand in his pocket before nodding slightly to himself. He was always sure to keep his only defense weapon with him at all times, even in his sleep, and cursed himself if he forgot it anywhere. It just wasn't allowed anymore, for a witch or wizard to forget their wand. Voldemort was still up and about, and with Harry being on his top five Hit List, he was just asking for death if he left his holly wand somewhere and forgot about it. After a moment of stretching, the boy took one more glance out the window before he decided to go downstairs to begin cooking dinner for the Dursley's. That would take his mind off of some things going on in his life, at least.

After walking slowly down the hall, down the stairs, and into the brightly lit kitchen, he looked around as if in a daze. He'd been doing that a lot recently; seeing things as if in a new perspective. After shaking himself out of his stupor, he went over to the refrigerator and began searching for the items he needed to make an Italian dish.

After about half an hour of standing over an overly heated oven, he decided to sit down at the table and wait for the noodles to finish boiling. While he waited and stared off into space, he didn't notice his aunt coming in from the door to the right that led from the living area. The woman had paused in her footsteps to get a good look at her nephew.

It was odd, to her, to see such a young man looking so old and worn out. He looked like the living dead, to put it simply. She knew he didn't eat anymore, and he would have horrific nightmares, or night terrors. He fidgeted constantly, as if just waiting to be attacked. He was a lost cause to her. There was nothing left of the boy she had grown to know, even if she disliked him still. He used to be so much like his mother, but now...

After a few moments, the boy finally realized her presence and turned to stare at her with a detached gaze.

"Dinner should be done in half an hour, Aunt Petunia," he stated dully, turning his gaze away from her, to stare out at the open window above the sink, where the warm breeze from outside drifted in, mixing the smells of pasta and flowers together in a soothing, exotic aroma.

He didn't catch the woman's slightly worried gaze, or the way she fidgeted before walking awkwardly towards him. She took a seat across from the wizard, startling him from his stupor. Harry sent her a questioning gaze.

The woman cleared her throat after a moment's pause, "Erm, Harry," she began, "I've noticed that you've, uh, stopped eating."

Harry just looked at her with that dull, penetrating stare that made her squirm in her seat, "I've been eating, Aunt Petunia," he told her, then added almost accusingly, "Not that it would matter to any of you."

His Aunt winced slightly, but continued, "I know something happened at that - that school of yours."

"Oh," was the only response she received. Even that sounded far distant.

"Yes, well." She looked extremely uncomfortable, "I-I wont ask you what happened, because I really don't care."

This caused Harry to give her a small, ghost-like smile, "Some things never change."

She shot him a glare, "Don't talk to me that way, boy. I'm trying to help you here." Her nephew nodded apologetically, but she knew he didn't mean it. Sighing, she said, "And I think I have the right thing for you."

After a questioning stare, she pulled something out of her pocket. It was oddly shaped, almost a cross between a circle and a triangle. It was silver, with chrome crisscrossing lines that sent light shafts everywhere and reflected all of it's surroundings perfectly, images of the kitchen and it's two occupants standing out among the light. There was a small knob at the top, almost like one of those winders on a musical doll. It reeked of magic.

Harry shivered at the sheer magic issuing from it. "What is it?" he questioned quietly, perplexed by the beauty it possessed, yet aware of the danger it possibly held.

"Do you honestly think I know that, Boy?" his Aunt snapped, then took a deep breath as if she were forcing herself to be calm. "That Headmaster of yours gave it to me years ago, when they left you on our doorstep." The boy took a deep breath and looked away from the woman across from him at the mention of his Headmaster. The memories were still painful. Unaware of the effect, she continued, "He left a note with it, saying that if you were ever in great need of a change, or if something extremely bad had happened and there was no hope left, to give this to you. The note said that once you have it, you'll know what to do with it."

Sliding the object towards Harry, she stood up and left the room without another word. The boy stared at the item on the tabletop in front of him, wondering what it was. The power emitting from it unsettled him, but he knew it wouldn't harm him. If his Aunt had touched it without being hurt, it shouldn't hurt him... right? It was from Dumbledore, after all.

He reached out and picked it up delicately, all the while feeling the raw power against his fingertips. It was almost an addicting. Actually… it _was _addicting.

Narrowing his eyes only slightly, Harry weighed the object in his hands, realizing that it was much lighter and warmer than it had looked. He blinked as he suddenly felt something different about himself. He felt a yearning in his heart for something, but he didn't know what. _'Once you have it, you'll know what to do with it…'_ His Aunts words rang through his mind. What would he do with it?

Just as he thought of what his Aunt had previously said, he felt the sudden urge to go outside. Blinking owlishly at the feeling, he stood up and went out through the back door as quietly as he could and breathed in the scent of the night as the summer breeze blew across his face.

A firefly passed him as he began walking through the small garden in the back, until he was in the center of the neatly cut yard. He stared up at the sky for a moment, his eyes locking onto a certain star that had been his only comfort since he'd arrived at Privet Drive, besides his trusty owl, Hedwig. It was the Dog Star. The very star that his Godfather had been named after.

He missed his Godfather greatly. He wanted him to be there with him; but that would never be since the man was now dead - taken from Harry's life through the Veil of Death. A distant anguish engulfed Harry's heart at the thought of the Grim-like man.

The object that Harry held in his hands seemed to pulse convulsively as he felt the loss of his father-figure in his heart. What did Harry truly want? His Godfather back? His parents? Or even Dumbledore?

"I want a life where I was never The-Boy-Who-Lived," he said unconsciously with hooded eyes rested on his reflection in the object, realizing that that was truly what he wanted.

Suddenly, the world began to spin. He felt the ground quiver beneath him, and the sky above him seemed to collapse. The air suddenly convulsed and closed in tightly against his body and lungs in an almost suffocating way. Wind whistled in his ears loudly, but Harry was unable to move an inch. Glued in one spot, he stared, wide-eyed at the object in his hands. It pulsed, getting hotter and hotter each second and scorched his hands until he could feel tears well up in his eyes.

Soon, when it became almost unbearable, the mirror burst into pieces, releasing a horde of blue light and throwing Harry back for what seemed like miles.

And then the boy landed with a thump, right onto something remotely hard, yet soft at the same time.

Opening his eyes with a trained awareness, Harry realized that he was in a house, lying sprawled on a blue carpeted floor. He blinked and looked around, his senses working full force.

The room he had plain white walls, adorned with many posters and shelves that contained books, and photograph frames were scattered here and there among the place. There was an unmade bed and a bedside table in the far corner next to a single window, closed off by white blinds. An antique wardrobe stood at the other end, and to the far right corner of that stood a full-length mirror.

That definitely wasn't his room.

Feeling bruised and battered, Harry stood up unsteadily while his eyes darted around the room. He wasn't sure what happened, but that object had taken him somewhere. But where, he didn't know. For all he knew, his Aunt could have been under an Imperus curse and had handed him an object that would lead him to Voldemort... _Oh bloody hell, _he thought in the back of his mind for his carelessness.

But... when his Aunt said that the object would help him, did she mean it? And if so, what did the words mean?

Deciding that he shouldn't just stand there like an idiot, he began to shuffle around the room as quietly as possible, looking through drawers and other things, hoping to find something that would help him know where he was.

Oddly enough, when he opened one of the middle drawers to the bedside table, he found a whole bunch of bubblegum wrappers inside, some of the same brand and others not.

"That's odd…" he mumbled to himself before shutting it hurriedly. Afterwards, he opened another drawer and found an already read letter sitting inside with a neat scrawl addressed to him. The date on the front told him it had been just from the night before. Opening it with shaking hands, he read:

_Dear Harry,_

_I hope this finds you well. I know we haven't seen each other since Christmas, but you're going to have to wait a bit longer until I come home. This Auror business has kept me busy lately, and since I'm still in Germany training, I'm afraid it may be another month before I'm able to see you again, since the Ministry is hyped about Voldemort's return. They've been working us nonstop, afraid that he'll bare down on them any second. And as Neville is in constant danger, they're having us keep lookouts on his relatives house._

_I know things at school have been hard for you, and I wish dearly that I were there to guide you through things at the moment, but I can't. Please forgive me. I'll try to make up for it when we see each other in a month._

_Take care of the house while I'm away, and remember not to leave the dish water running too long. I know you can forget that sometimes. And NO magic! I know you're allowed it now, but I really don't want to come home finding the house in ruins. Sorry, I had to say that._

_Please take care, Harry. I do miss you._

_Sincerely,_

_Sirius_

Harry gaped. And continued to gape.

"Sirius?"

Looking at the letter awkwardly, things began to sink in. _'…Neville is in constant danger…', '…Voldemort's return…'_

It was odd, but Harry knew exactly what had happened. It was more of a gut feeling than anything else.

That object his Aunt had given him wasn't a trick planned out by a Death Eater or even Voldemort himself. It was, indeed, from Dumbledore and had granted his most heart-felt desire: to be someone other than The-Boy-Who-Lived. His aunt had practically stated before handing him the item that it would grant him that desire... had the Headmaster really thought so highly of Harry to give him something of such power?

The letter stated, although not up-front, that Neville was The-Boy-Who-Lived. It was as if Harry had switched rolls with his fellow classmate. And Sirius was there! Sirius was alive!

The reality sunk in, and laughing for the first time in months, Harry sat down heavily on the bed next to him. He laughed and laughed, doubled over and clutching his side, feeling as if something drastic had been lifted from his shoulders.

"I can't believe it," he breathed out after his hysterics had subsided slightly. "I just can't believe it. If I knew things could be this simple, I would have done this sooner."

Hope began to bubble in his chest as he rested his head in his hands. He felt exhausted, although at the same time, he felt as if he could take on the world. Maybe, just maybe, he had a chance. His Godfather was alive, from what he knew, Dumbledore might even be alive! Things could be much different!

With those thoughts in mind, the boy laid down on the bed fully dressed and closed his eyes slowly despite wanting to stay awake.

_Yes, _he thought, hoping to whatever God was up There, that when he woke up it wouldn't be just a dream. _If this is real, then I do have a chance._


	2. Reunions and Keepsakes

a/n- second chappy, wooo! again, this was written by me and my friend, min, who goes by xscenex on here. check out hre stories. thnx to all who reviewed for the first chapter! it meant a lot to me. ok, enough talking. here's the next part.

discalimer- jk rowling owns harry potter. i dont. i only share this plot with min, but thats all

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Harry had slept for three full days, waking up at short intervals to eat or use the lavatories. He was more than pleased to realize that what had happened wasn't a dream, and was in fact, real. 

Although, the boy was quite surprised to find himself waking up one afternoon because of something lying on his chest. When he had opened his eyes, he nearly choked when he found himself staring eye to eye with a large toad.

It wasn't the most pleasant experience, therefore, he promptly picked the toad up, dropped it on the floor and rolled over, leaving the poor creature to wonder off on its own for food.

He spent quite a while afterwards making himself familiar with the house he was in. It was a nice, three bedroom house that reminded him of the Dursley's - although, this one seemed more human. It wasn't spotless, although it was clean. It had it's homey touches, with pictures everywhere and random wizarding knickknacks thrown about.

What the boy found to be a bit unsettling though, was all the pictures of him growing up that sat on the fireplace mantle, or on the many cabinets or shelves. It was eerie seeing pictures of a childhood he never had, without the lightening bolt scar that still marred his forehead.

But he got used to it.

Before he knew it, almost three weeks had passed, and remembering the letter, he realized that he would be seeing Sirius soon. The mere thought of that gave him so much hope that he was even able to eat half of his dinner.

The days ticked by, and Harry became more nervous. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to act around his Godfather, seeing that this was a completely different man. He hadn't been sent to Azkaban for a murder he never committed. He hadn't been on the run for years on end before his death. Suddenly, for the first time since he'd been thrown into his 'dream world' as he began to call it, he realized that his parents were there -- not alive, no, but there, in St. Mungo's, if roles had completely switched with Neville.

Tears sprang into Harry's eyes as he realized that one day, he might actually see his mother and father. It was odd, he realized, and wondered how he'd deal with his souless parents.

It was a Friday now, and Harry sat lounging on the couch with a cup of tea, idly wondering about the life he would soon have. It had been odd, just sitting around at what he could only guess was Sirius' house without many worries clouding his vision.

Before he could think any further on the subject though, he heard a key turning in the front door and it opened.

His heart leapt in his chest. He stood up uncertainly from his seat on the couch and walked slowly towards the door, feeling his palms beginning to sweat. He was nervous -- but you couldn't blame him. He was about to see his Godfather, alive and well.

"Harry?" A voice rang out. It sounded foreign to Harry's ears, yet there was still a hint of recognition in it. It wasn't so gravelly or hoarse as he was used to. "Harry, are you here?"

"I-I'm in here," the boy called out brokenly, trying his hardest not to break down before seeing the man he cared about.

After hearing a loud clinking noise of keys being placed on a table, he heard footsteps coming closer to the living area. He shifted anxiously, waiting for Sirius to come into view, and he wasn't disappointed.

The man that he set his eyes on was tall, with neatly trimmed black -- albeit graying -- hair. He had a medium build and sparkling blue eyes. He wore a well-fitted t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. The smile that had been on the mans face fell though, when he set eyes on his Godson.

"Merlin, Harry," he sputtered. "What happened to you?"

Not quite sure what he was talking about, Harry looked down at his shaking hands. They seemed to shake a lot lately, he realized. Harry shrugged his bony shoulders and looked up again. This time, he saw tears welling up in the older mans eyes.

"Oh, Harry. I didn't realize that things were getting that bad," he whispered and stepped forward, bringing his Godson into a tight, fatherly embrace.

That's when Harry broke down. He began sobbing, clutching desperately onto the man that he had come to know and love. "Sirius," he sobbed, "Sirius, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"Shh," Sirius replied, unaware of the true meaning of Harry's words. "I should be the one saying I'm sorry. Look at you - I mean…"

As the man trailed off, Harry hugged him tighter, "It's my fault, Sirius. All my fault. I'm so sorry-"

"Hush," Sirius patted him on the back, then pulled away, placing his hands on either of his arms. He stepped back to a respectful distance and looked the boy up and down. A look of sadness swept over the animagus's face as he took in all of Harry's features. "Merlin…"

Harry wiped at his eyes, feeling drained but happy. His Godfather was actually there with him.

"I'm so glad to see you, Sirius," he stated truthfully.

"I'm glad to see you too, Harry. Now, I think it's time for us to get some dinner. What do you say?" The man asked, although uncertainly.

"I've already eaten," Harry told him, but smiled a bit, "But if you're hungry, I'll be more than happy to join you."

"Great!" Sirius exclaimed, throwing an arm around Harry's shoulders and steering him into the kitchen, "I see that you've kept things in order around here. You didn't use magic, did you?"

"Erm," Harry looked at him uncertainly. He had used a bit of magic as he tried to get used to his new wand. Even though he had his Holly wand, he didn't want to use it in case it seemed suspicious, so he began using the wand he found on the bedside table in his room. "I, er, used a bit." At the look of panic that passed across his Godfathers face, Harry rushed to explain, "I wasn't for anything big, really. No harm done."

Relief, but slight uncertainty settled on the older wizards face. Harry then realized that this Sirius was a lot more expressive. "Good. Well, I'm famished. Does steak sound good to you?"

Harry smiled for the first time in a while, "Sounds great."

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Harry couldn't have been happier. His life seemed to be one of a fairytale; for him at least. 

Living with Sirius was more wonderful than he had ever thought. Sirius wasn't too strict, yet he wasn't too lenient. He was a great parental figure, Harry realized. He figured that he had grown up a lot more, although sometimes he still had that Marauder side in him, where he would play a small prank here and there. Harry was more than happy to counter his antics, surprising Sirius more than anything. Harry guessed that Sirius wasn't used to Harry being able to counter his pranks, as he was supposed to be horrible at magic.

Harry knew that Sirius would eventually catch on to him not being clumsy, and there was the fact that he could do a lot more magic than Neville ever had. Also, Harry had been surprised that it was taking so long for his Godfather to realize, he had the lightening bolt scar on his forehead. Most would have noticed it by then, but Sirius hadn't. Maybe his hair was in the way?

But Harry was completely content with his life now. He was surprised to realize that he had settled into life there so quickly. He thought it would be awkward, but instead, it was simple, easy, and actually a bit of fun. The only thing he had against it was how fast the time seemed to go by.

Time was passing too quickly in Harry's opinion. It was his birthday now, and Sirius had planned for them to do something fun that day. They had to be careful though, Sirius had told him though, because Voldemort was still at large.

Harry had learned that Voldemort had been brought back the same way he had before, except with Neville's blood instead of his. But not everything was the same -- although months ago, before things had changed, Dumbledore had died, here, he was still alive in this dream world.

After hearing that bit of news, Harry had nearly burst into tears again. Things were looking up, indeed.

The only problem was, the boy was having trouble eating still, and he had numerous nightmares. He didn't tell Sirius though, as he preferred to cast silencing charms around his bed at night. His Godfather was worried though, Harry knew, because of his weight and his appearance. Not only that, but his attitude had ultimately changed from the nervous, stuttering boy, to the quiet, depressed man.

As much as Harry tired, he couldn't change his attitude. It was something he was stuck with, as it was part of himself. Hopefully nobody else would care.

"Harry, are you up yet?"

"Yes," Harry called back as he ran his fingers through his untamed hair to get the tangles out. He looked at his image in the mirror and frowned. He really did need to eat more. He was still skeletal and pale, with that haunted look in his eyes. He was unnerved, himself, by the look in his eyes. It reminded him of the Avada Kedavra curse.

Shuddering slightly, Harry adjusted his shirt -- which fitted him better than Dudley's clothes had, but was still extremely loose against his gaunt form -- and threw on a light cloak before he left the room to find Sirius.

The other man was wearing a black t-shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans. He smiled as his Godson walked into the room.

"So, how's my birthday boy?"

Harry only smiled slightly at the man. "Where are we going?"

"Oh, well, seeing that you haven't gotten out in a while, I was thinking about taking you to Diagon Alley to get you a present or two. Then we can get some ice cream and afterwards you can pick a place to go. Sound good? Remus might stop by also, near the end of the night for dinner. He hasn't seen you in almost a year and he thought it would be nice to stay for a while."

"Sounds great," Harry responded, feeling a bit of guilt bubble up inside of him. He hadn't thought of Remus once since he'd fallen into that world.

"Alright! Lets get going."

* * *

After flooing to The Leaky Cauldron, Sirius steered Harry outside to the wall that was the portal to Diagon Alley. 

As usual, the place was packed, although not as much as one would normally think. Since Voldemort had made his public appearance, people were very uneasy to be out alone.

"So, where would you like to go? You know, they have some new books on Herbology that you might like."

Harry nearly grimaced at the thought of liking Herbology. He was okay at it, but not great. "I think I'd like to go to the Quidditch shop, if that's okay with you."

"Quidditch? I thought you didn't like Quidditch."

Harry shrugged indifferently. "I've been practicing, and I've gotten better."

The man grinned widely, "Finally interested, eh?"

Harry attempted to smile back, nodding. "Yeah, it's a lot better once you get used to it, I reckon."

"That's my boy! So, a trip to get a new, state-of-the-line broom it is then!"

An hour later, Harry and Sirius exited the shop with a brand new Firebolt. Sirius had insisted that Harry get it, as a birthday present and a make-up present for not being home for about a month before. Harry refused, but his Godfather had been overly persistent, and eventually he gave in.

Now, the two of them sat at one of the many booths in front of Florence Fortescue's ice cream parlor. Sirius was on his second ice-cream cone, while Harry had barely finished his first, and only one.

Harry couldn't see how the man hadn't gotten a brain freeze yet, seeing that he literally wolfed down the first one and was almost through with the second.

"You eat a lot," Harry commented half-heartedly.

"And you don't eat enough," he retorted, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Seriously, Harry. You're a stick."

The younger wizard felt his cheeks flush, "No I'm not!"

"As much as you deny it, you are," Sirius suddenly seemed to sober more as he looked at the boy. "I don't know what happened Harry, and I wish you'd tell me. I just can't imagine what caused you to stop eating."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Harry said lamely, unsure of what to say. He didn't know much about Neville's life, and now he wished he did. It would have helped him greatly, now.

Sighing heavily, Sirius ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, if you say so. I just wish there was something I could do to help you. I'm always gone and I don't see you much, you know? I just want to be there for you when you're having trouble."

Harry felt his heart clench painfully in his ribcage. "Sirius, you being here with me today is the most I could ask for," he stated truthfully, feeling tears prickle at his eyes. "I couldn't be any happier right now."

And it was true. Harry didn't want the summer to end. He was perfectly happy being there with Sirius. It was, in all honesty, a dream come true.

The older man smiled sincerely at him. "I think we should get going, Harry. It's getting late, and if you wanted to do anything, I think we'd best do it before it's dark. Where to?"

Nodding, Harry began to think. Where would he like to go? He'd never really had the chance to do anything of his choice in his life, so he felt awkward as the man waited patiently for an answer.

"Well," Harry began, unsure of what to say. "I don't really know where I want to go. I'm not that great with deciding things.."

"Come now, there has to be something you'd like to do," Sirius urged.

"Well," Harry thought for a moment. "I… I would like to, erm, visit mum and dad," he said quietly.

The air around them seemed to become slightly gloomy as sadness swept over both of them. Sirius was smiling sadly again, "I think that'd be a great idea, Harry. Come, lets go before visiting hours are over."

Harry and the older man stood up and made their way back to the pub. They flooed to St. Mungo's and waited patiently before they were allowed to go see the two patients admitted into the ward.

The boy was nervous. He was actually going to see his parents up close. He wasn't sure if he should be happy or sad about their state of mind, but decided to be optimistic about it all.

After walking for a long time down the long, empty halls, they stopped at the door leading to the room where Mr. Weasley had once been placed after his snake bite at the Ministry.

Cautiously, Sirius opened the door and allowed Harry to walk in first.

The room was brightly lit. From what he could see, there were no other occupants in the room, but he figured that his parents were behind the curtain across from them, just as it had been before with Neville's family.

Gulping quietly, Harry walked forward, feeling as if he were in a daze. When he reached the grey curtain, he pulled it back slowly, allowing his eyes to take in the scene before him.

A woman with graying red hair lay on a bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling above her with dull, green eyes. She was wearing a simple hospital gown over her gaunt, pale form, with a blanket draped over her lower body.

Next to her on another bed was a man with black hair, resembling Sirius' almost, although his was shorter. The man wasn't wearing any glasses, which caused his face to show out more than expected. His skin was stretched against his face, making him look almost as Harry did. Oddly enough, the boy thought that he looked like a mirror image of his father at the moment, besides the fact that he was wearing glasses, whereas the other man wasn't. They were both skeletal.

"Mum, Dad," Harry whispered although his throat was tight and walked over towards where the woman lay.

He placed a hand gently on her own, marveling at the fact that he was actually able to touch her. The woman didn't respond to his touch and continued to stare up at the ceiling. Harry choked back a sob as he moved a stray piece of hair out of his mothers face, memorizing every wrinkle on her face.

"Hey mum," he said, kneeling down next to the bed. "I know you probably don't understand what I'm saying, but…" he paused for a moment, unsure how he wanted to word what he wanted to say. Eventually, unable to find a better way to say it, he blurted out, "I-I love you mum."

The woman turned her head slightly, as if she heard, but didn't move otherwise. Leaning over a bit, Harry kissed the woman's cheek lightly before getting up and walking to the next bed.

His father's eyes were closed, so Harry figured he was asleep. Feeling overly emotional, Harry knelt down once again. "'Lo, Dad."

He grabbed the mans hand in his for a moment and closed his eyes. He felt tears forming against his closed eyelids and wondered briefly if he were going to cry. After a few minutes, he opened them again and noticed that his father had gripped onto his hand slightly. Harry smiled sorrowfully, "I love you too, Dad. I want you to know that, even if you don't understand what I'm saying. I'm glad to see you, you know? I just wish there were more that I could do…"

He sat like that for a while, staring at his father. Like he had with his mother, he stared at every line, wrinkle, or freckle on the mans face, trying to permanently etch the memory into his mind. It might not be the happiest memory, but he knew if he didn't he would regret it someday. It was the first time he'd ever laid eyes on his parents in person; that he could remember anyway.

After a long time passed, Sirius came and got him. Harry figured that it was hard for Sirius to see two of his best friends in such a state, as he stayed outside of the curtains.

"Time to go, Harry. Visiting hours are almost over."

Nodding dejectedly, Harry glanced once more at his parents before allowing himself to be steered away. Maybe he would get to see them during Christmas.

As they were walking once again down the halls, Harry thought to himself, _Voldemort will pay, one day, for what he did to my parents. One day…_

* * *

so 2nd chappy is done. hope you liked it! pls review! 


	3. Nevermore

a/n- chappy 3! yay for me and min. as always, go check out her stuff under the pen name xscenex. sry for the kinda short chappy. ive been busy with school and stff. pls review!

discaimer- i dont own anything but the plot, which i share with xscenex

also, i'd like to note that the reason for harry's clumsiness is because after his parents were tortured, be became dejected and was picked on by children when he was younger. i will be putting that into the story later on, mentioning it and stuff. anyway heres the story!

* * *

Sirius Black was always one to worry over his Godson. Of course, it was only natural as the boy was the son of his best friend and his wife. But recently, his worry had been increasing. 

He didn't know what it was, but he knew something had happened. Harry hadn't been himself, ever since he'd last seen him the Christmas before. That was over half a year ago.

After he had finished his Auror training in Germany, he was hoping to go home and find Harry good and healthy like always, but was surprised to see such a… change in the boy. Skinny and underfed were understatements to the state of being the child was in. Not that he was a child anymore-- he was nearly an adult. There were too many smaller things he noticed, such as, Harry didn't smile much, and when he did, it was usually forced. He didn't laugh anymore, and one of the most noticeable things was that he wasn't clumsy anymore.

But what unnerved him the most was the look in the boys eyes. The usual, nervous, shifty eyes that adorned his face were now overly bright and wise with a hint of grief and darkness in them, as if he'd seen too much in his lifetime that caused him such pain. The only time he'd ever seen that look was when he stared into the eyes of an old war Veteran. Even more unsettling was the colour of his eyes now. They resembled the killing curse he'd seen many times; and it scared him.

He just didn't understand what was going on. What could have happened to his Godson in less than a year to cause such a change in him? He decided he needed to talk to the Headmaster about it.

It was now a week before the return to Hogwarts that Sirius received an owl from the Headmaster responding to his previous letter on Harry's behalf.

Opening the letter eagerly, he read through it.

_Dear Mr. Black,_

_I'm sorry to say that I do not know what has happened to young Harry. The last I saw him, he seemed in perfect health, albeit slightly depressed. _

_It might be due to the war. Many students are feeling it's effect now, which I hope this upcoming year, us professor's can change. Times like these, we need all the hope we can muster._

_I assure you, though, that when Harry comes back, that I, along with the other professors, will keep an eye out for the boy. We will keep you informed with anything that might be going on and affecting him in any way._

_My greatest apologies for not being much help in this case, Mr. Black. I will, however, do my best to help in the future if possible. I hope this letter finds you well,_

_Sincerely, _

_Albus Dumbledore_

Sirius sighed. Dumbledore didn't know anything about Harry either. _Well, _he thought to himself, _I'll just do my best for Harry. I'll do what I can to help him._

* * *

Harry was feeling down. It was the morning of his departure, and the air in the house seemed to be darkened by the depressed mood's of both occupants. Sirius didn't want Harry to leave, and Harry felt the same. He wished to stay with his Godfather. He had just gotten back the man he'd seen die, and he wasn't about to just up and leave. 

The boy refused touch a single thing on his plate as they sat down to 'Sirius' seriously spectacular special' breakfast, as the man jokingly put it.

"Come, Harry. You have to eat," the man urged, trying to pile more sausages onto the plate in front of the boy.

"I'm not hungry," Harry said in a detached voice, shoving the plate away from him. "I'm just not in the mood to eat."

"You're _never _in the mood to eat, Harry. You're still a stick! Please, eat _something,_" Sirius whined loudly. "Please?"

Sighing, Harry shook his head. "I wont keep it down if I do," he said quietly.

That caught Sirius' attention. "What? You wont keep it down?" When Harry shook his head, Sirius yelped concernedly, "Does that happen often? Do you usually throw up your food? How much can you keep down?"

Harry barely heard all the questions the man threw at him, "I can't keep food down if I'm upset. Alright? That's all. I'm fine, really. I'm not even hungry."

The older wizard seemed to deflate. "I'm worried about you, Harry. This isn't normal for a boy your age."

"Yeah," Harry muttered, "Well, I'm not a 'normal boy' as you put it."

"What was that?" Sirius questioned, having not heard what he said.

The boy sighed, "Nothing. I'm going to go make sure I packed everything. Alright?"

"Okay…"

Harry stood up and left the room, knowing that he had upset his Godfather. He felt bad, but he couldn't do anything about it. It wasn't his fault that he couldn't keep much food down. Blame Voldemort for that.

He double checked his room for anything he might have missed as he packed. When he figured he'd gotten everything, he snapped the lid shut on his trunk and trudged down the stairs with it. It felt odd not having Hedwig with him, but he figured she was with Neville now.

"I'm ready to go, Sirius," Harry called out as he reached the front door.

Said wizard came into the room, holding a pair of keys that belonged to his car. Harry was a bit unnerved with having to drive in a car with Sirius, but he shrugged the feeling off. It wouldn't be that bad, right?

"I'll get your trunk, Harry. Go ahead and get in the car. You have Trevor, don't you?"

Harry nodded solemnly and obliged, settling himself comfortably into the front seat while holding onto a box he'd stuck the toad in. He watched as Sirius lugged his trunk to the back of the car where he shoved it into the compartment. After what seemed like forever of struggling, the man was finally able to shut the trunk door.

"Have fun?" Harry nearly grinned as his Godfather sat down in the driver's seat.

"No, what did you put in that thing? It was heavy!" The man whined.

"Just a few dozen books, my clothes, and the usual. I think you're just weak. I was able to carry it," Harry said with raised eyebrows.

"I'm not weak," the other replied indignantly.

"If you say so."

After sending Harry a sour look, Sirius started the car and backed out of the driveway. That's when Harry began fearing for his life.

"SIRIUS!" Harry shouted as they zoomed past a car on the highway about twenty minutes later. "_Watch _where you're GOING!"

"I am," the man replied happily, quickly swerving into the middle lane. "See?"

"Slow the BLOODY HELL _down_!" Harry shouted, covering his face with his hands.

Sirius looked incredulously at his Godson. He hardly ever cussed -- actually, he didn't even remember hearing his Godson cussing. It was actually a bit funny in his opinion.

The whole scenario went on for a long time before they reached the station. Harry was more than happy to get out of the car, feeling as if he'd never be on his own feet again.

"Thank Merlin," Harry mumbled as he extracted his luggage from the back of the car. "I thought you would get us killed for sure out there."

"Do you have no faith in me?" Frowned Sirius, brushing hair out of his eyes. "I'm a good driver, admit it."

"For someone's who's _insane,_" was Harry's only response.

Pouting, Sirius led Harry towards where the barrier was. There was a large crowd of people around it, and Harry felt his heart leap when he noticed a group of redheads huddled over to the side. When he saw Ron, he wanted nothing more than to rush forward and greet his old friend, but he had to refrain himself. He knew seeing them again would be a bit painful, as he couldn't just talk to them like he used to. Suddenly, Harry felt as if he'd actually lost something since he'd arrived in the world where he wasn't The-Boy-Who-Lived.

"Something wrong, Prongslet?" Sirius asked, using the nickname he hadn't called Harry by for a long time. The boy looked up at him in surprise, causing Sirius to think he said the wrong thing, but to his relief, the boy broke out into a large smile; the first one in a long time.

"Nothing's wrong. I'm just… thinking," he said, looking back at the group of redheads. He noticed then, that there were other people with them. Hermione was there, along with another boy with light brown hair.

That's when he realized that it was Neville with them.

But he hardly recognized the boy. The Neville he stared at now had more confidence. He was thinner than the one he was used to, and he held himself differently. He actually reminded Harry of himself. But the oddest thing about him was the oddly shaped scar running against the brown-haired boys right cheek.

Was that his scar?

"Come on, Harry. Let's go. You don't want to miss the train, do you?"

Shaking his head, Harry followed his Godfather towards the barrier. None of the Weasley's looked his way, although when he passed Hermione, she did a double take and a flash of concern was evident in her eyes when she saw Harry.

At the girls look, Harry just blinked slowly and turned away as she said something to Neville, who turned in turn to stare at him in turn. It wouldn't be any good for him to stare -- he'd just feel more of the loss.

He felt awkward then. He must look loads different from the Harry they were used to. Sighing almost unhappily, Harry followed Sirius still until they were at the train, vaguely wondering if his appearance really had changed so much.

"I'll miss you, Harry. I want you to owl me whenever you can, and if anything happens or if anything's bothering you, tell me, okay?" Sirius said seriously, hugging his Godson tightly after they had made it to the platform.

"I'll miss you too, Sirius," he replied. "I'll owl, don't worry. And I'll be fine, so there's no use in worrying about that either."

"I can't help it--"

"I know, I know. You're just worried." Harry rolled his eyes, having heard that loads of times before. "But seriously, I'll be fine. Just take care of yourself. Don't strain yourself over me, or work. And stay safe."

Smiling broadly at Harry, Sirius hugged him again. "I'm so proud of you, you know that? You remind me so much of your Father sometimes. He'd always tell me to be safe every summer while we attended Hogwarts. But you're just like your mom too. I'm so proud of you."

Harry allowed a smile to grace his face, feeling as if a balloon had swelled in his heart. "Thanks, Sirius. That means a lot to me."

Ruffling the boys hair, Sirius gave the boy a small push, "Now get on that train. It wouldn't do if you missed your ride, now would it?"

"No, it wouldn't. Bye Sirius!" Harry waved as he pushed his trunk up into the train. "Take care of yourself, and like I said before, stay safe!"

The whistle sounded then, and the students began to mill around, trying to get on the train. Harry backed away from the door and started to move through the train, trying to find an empty compartment to sit in.

There was a lot for him to think about, such as the upcoming school year. He had no idea of what he would do, since his role had switched. But all he could do was hope that life would be easier, and his life wouldn't change too drastically from what it was now.

But he could only hope, he thought, as he sat down tiredly in his seat. Once again, he felt drained of energy. Everything seemed to exhaust him nowadays.

Sighing, he rubbed at his face. _This is going to be one awkward year._

* * *

No one had come to visit him as he sat alone in one of the far back compartments of the train. It had been about an hour, and Harry was actually a bit relieved to not have to deal with anyone. 

He stared out of the window, watching the many trees flash by in blurs of green and brown as the sky began to darken and clouds overtook the arriving stars. He sighed, feeling oddly detached and cold in the small train compartment.

The boy rubbed his arms a few times with his hands, trying to warm himself up; it didn't help. He pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his thin arms around them in desperate attempts to trap heat against his body.

He didn't understand why he felt so cold. Almost amusedly, he wondered if there were Dementor's nearby, but decided against it as he didn't hear the terrors in his mind that usually accompanied the presence of the foul creatures.

The whole time he'd been on the train, his mind had been working nonstop. He wondered how things would be once he arrived at Hogwarts. How would the teachers treat him? What about all of the students? He also wondered what classes would be like.

Sighing heavily, Harry buried his head against his knees, messy black hair obscuring his features. He sat like that for quite some time before he heard footsteps approaching his compartment. He held his breath, unsure of what to do. What if it was someone he knew? Or, 'knew'?

A moments pause. Then the clicking of a doorknob turning, and the compartment door swung open. Harry didn't look up but peered out the best he could through his hair to see who had come into the compartment.

He saw a flash of brown, bushy hair before the voice of one of his dear friends spoke up, "Harry?"

Said boy grunted slightly, feeling his heart constrict as Hermione closed the door and took a seat across from him.

"Harry?" She repeated.

"Yeah?" He responded finally, lifting his face out of his arms to look at the girl. She looked the same as he had remembered her.

She bit her lower lip for a minute. "Harry, uhm, we -- that is, Ginny, Ron,Neville, and I, noticed that you aren't looking… yourself."

Raising an eyebrow delicately, he inquired slowly, "Really?"

Nodding, Hermione shifted a bit in her seat. "Did something happen to you over the summer?"

Harry nearly laughed. Leave it to her to be the first to show her concern and suspicion. The boy shook his head slowly, "I don't want to talk about it, Hermione. Okay?"

She gave him an exasperated look, "Why?"

"I just don't, okay?" he told her tiredly, allowing his face to fall back into the comfort of his arms. "I just don't."

Hermione didn't say anything for a long time. When she did, Harry cringed at the pity that seemed to drip from her voice. "Well, I suppose I'll be getting back to the others. I was just running my rounds on the train, and the others had said you hadn't showed up at all. If you want to talk about anything, we're here for you," and with that, she left.

Harry scowled. He hated the pity that he received from others. He had actually thought that since he wasn't The-Boy-Who-Lived anymore, he wouldn't have to deal with the emotions anymore. Maybe he was wrong.

Anger started building up but he tried to push it down. He didn't need to waste his energy by being in a foul mood. Harry took a deep, calming breath before he closed his eyes and drifted off into a fitful sleep.


	4. A One Way Ticket

a/n- this chapter is a bit shorter than my usual ones but its just how it came out. I know the sorting song is corny but give me a break, im not good at poems at all. Thnx for reading, and thnx to those who reviewed last time! Pls continue to review and I will love u for forever (plus, the motivation helps me and min update faster. she does take time out of her schedule to help write this, and it also interferes with her writing).

Disclaimer- I own nothing but the plot which I share with xscenex

* * *

The boy awoke suddenly as the door to his compartment was slammed open. Confused and disoriented from sleep, Harry looked around. It was almost dark outside and the overhead lights were on, swaying in motion with the train, and a light pitter-patter sounded against the train windows, indicating the weather outside had changed from fair to dreary.

He blinked a few times to get the much needed sleep out of his eyes, then looked up to see who had abruptly came into his compartment, hoping it wasn't Hermione again. Although his vision was still fuzzy with sleep, he inwardly groaned as he made out the figure of Draco Malfoy, standing arrogantly in the doorway with his two cronies.

"Potter," he spat with his usual sneer on his face, although his eyes raked curiously over Harry's person, showing a bit of surprise about his physical state.

"Malfoy," he responded quietly, sitting up a bit straighter. "What do you want?"

Malfoy seemed a bit more surprised that the boy didn't cower back from his presence and Harry figured that, just like the Neville in his world, he was usually scared of the Slytherin.

"So you haven't killed yourself this summer I see. Pity."

"It is, isn't it," Harry replied almost emotionlessly, ignoring the dense chuckling from Crabbe and Goyle. "If you're only going to insult me, Malfoy, get out of here. Those childish remarks will get you killed one day."

"What was that, Potter?" he asked coldly.

"I said," the Gryffindor sighed wearily, "If you're only going to insult me, get. Out. Of. Here. Did you understand that time?"

Flushing an angry red, Draco whipped out his wand. "You shouldn't talk to your Betters that way, if you know what's good for you. The Earth wont accomplish it's meaning in the wrong hands, in any case, Potter."

Harry uncurled from his warm seat regretfully, thin arms pushing his weight up so that he stood unsteadily on his feet, still feeling groggy. Ignoring the numb feeling in his legs from his hours of sitting, he flicked his hand, allowing his wand to fall out of its holster and into his palm. Holding the holly wand in his hand, he brandished it towards the hall outside of the compartment.

"Leave," he deadpanned, thin fingers gripping tightly onto his wand.

"What if I don't want to?" the blonde retaliated fiercely just as his two cronies pulled out their wands.

"I'll force you to leave, Malfoy," the raven haired boy growled, tired of the charade he'd put up. It only took so much before Malfoy got completely on his nerves. "Now go."

"You'll have to make me," Malfoy sneered, eyes flashing with arrogance.

Malfoy rose his wand just as Harry shouted out a silencing spell faster than could be followed due to his old Quidditch reflexes, efficiently rendering the blonde speechless. The Slytherin's eyes widened and the other two boys stared dumbly at their 'leader', unsure of what to do when they realized that Malfoy wouldn't be able to hex the Gryffindor.

"Want to leave before I do worse?" Harry snapped, holding onto his wand threateningly.

Malfoy glared at him but motioned for his fellow House mates to back out of the compartment. Sending the other boy one last fierce look, he stomped out and slammed the door behind him.

Smiling ruefully at his own temper, Harry sat back down in his now cold seat. He wondered if Neville had always had those problems with Malfoy, but decided not to think of it, knowing he'd just regret it later.

Harry sighed and traced a circle on the fogged up window next to his seat, the trees outside flashing by in blacks and dark greens. He was bored now, realizing it wouldn't do to just fall back asleep as they were almost at Hogwarts. Poking at the inside area of the circle, he made two eyes and a nose and made a squiggly line that almost resembled a frown.

Staring only momentarily at the deformed smiley face - or in it's case, frowning, Harry quickly wiped it away and began doodling again.

After half a minute, he had successfully drawn a very sloppy Grim. Smiling at the memories the small drawing brought to his mind, he sat back in his seat as the lights flickered a bit.

He was actually beginning to wonder what life was going to really be like for him. Would he really be 'just Harry'? Or would he be more or less than that? He remembered Neville from his world, and in all honesty, wouldn't have wanted to be in the boy's shoes.

Although Harry was a bit better off with some things, how _would _his life turn out to be? He hadn't kept much of an eye on Neville in his world, and he wasn't sure how he was supposed to act around anyone else. It was almost nerve wracking.

Just before he could work himself up anymore, a voice from overhead announced that they would arrive at the castle in less than ten minutes. Frowning in annoyance, Harry stood up again and struggled to get his trunk out from its compartment above the seats.

After a five minute struggle, he'd successfully retrieved a one of his school uniforms and a tie. He finished changing right as the train stopped at the station in Hogsmeade.

Students began milling out of their compartments and Harry joined in, trying his best not to get trampled over by the students who were taller than him.

Finally, after separating himself from the stampede of students, he trotted off through the light drizzle in hopes of an empty carriage. After a fruitless attempts of finding one void of occupants, a damp Harry set off in search of someone remotely friendly to share with.

With his luck - or without if you look at in in some ways, he ran into none other than Neville, Ginny, Hermione, Ron, and Luna. Five pairs of eyes swiveled onto him, staring mindlessly.

Harry glared slightly and cleared his throat, "Excuse me?"

They snapped out of their reverie and Ginny smiled slightly at him, having the decency to look slightly embarrassed, "Hi Harry, you didn't stop by the usual compartment on the train. Were you okay?"

Harry's eyes drifted over towards Hermione, where she was about to join Luna in the carriage. "I was okay. Do you mind if I share a carriage with you guys?"

"No, we don't mind at all," Ginny grinned and motioned for the remaining boys to jump into the coach and then gestured for Harry to follow her.

He let his eyes drift towards where the thestral's stood patiently, awaiting the signal to head up towards the castle. The creatures were just as vivid as ever.

"Harry?"

Shaking his head a bit, Harry looked up into the concerned faces of his supposed friends. "Sorry," he mumbled while joining the others in the dry compartment. He took a seat next to Luna and across from Neville.

Staring at the other boy, he realized the chances in him. He was no longer pudgy, but now lean and slightly fit. He had the upper body muscles that where probably from - to Harry's immense disbelief - Quidditch. He had a determined look in his eyes, plus a look of great sadness that Harry himself was quite accustomed to seeing in the mirror. But the oddest thing was the zigzagged scar on the boy's cheek; that had to be his curse scar.

Under the scrutiny he sensed, Neville turned to stare at Harry, his light blue eyes boring into emerald green. "Is there something on my face?"

"No…" Harry sighed and shifted to the side a bit, effectively taking his attention off the boy as light chatter filled the small, crowded space.

Simple to say, he was quite happy when the carriages stopped at the castle's front doors.

Harry was the first to get out of the coach, purposely ignoring the looks from the teen's he'd left behind as he hurried forward out of the cold. He was already always cold and standing there in the drizzle didn't help his poor body heat.

While walking, a few of his former classmates sent him odd looks which he ignored with ease. After being The-Boy-Who-Lived for most of his life, he'd gotten relatively used to it.

Walking into the castle, he felt the usual welcoming atmosphere and smiled a bit. He was finally home. Looking around, he saw that the Great Hall was just as it had always been, with its sparkling candles and enchanted ceiling. He let his eyes drift up towards the teachers table and felt a painful jab in his heart when he set eyes on Albus Dumbledore, alive and well.

Tears began to well up in his eyes which he hastily tried to blink away. It would be no use in crying over the past - and in the world he was now in, the Headmaster was alive. _Alive!_ It was all too good to be true - but if Sirius was alive, why couldn't Dumbledore?

He hadn't realized he'd had his eyes glued onto the old wizard until Dumbledore turned in his seat from talking to McGonagall and his eyes locked onto Harry's.

Harry felt rooted to the spot, stopping suddenly and causing a few students behind him to grumble in annoyance. He wasn't that far from the teachers table, having walked a bit over halfway across the Great Hall, so he was clearly able to see the expressions on the older man's face.

And to say they were surprised is an understatement. Concerned flashed across his face, attracting the other teacher's attention. When McGonagall looked over, she had a similar expression, as did Flitwick. He could see her lips moving furiously and Dumbledore said something in reply, but what was spoken was unknown to Harry.

Ducking his head down a bit, Harry ripped his gaze away from Dumbledore's and turned around to find a seat at the end of Gryffindor table. He just couldn't find it in his heart to sit with the other students.

When everyone was seated, McGonagall went to go fetch the first years from Hagrid, and soon, the sorting hat was brought out.

Harry was hardly paying attention until the hat began to sing its usual song.

_Oh, of all the blatant things to come,  
__This sorting hat knows all but one  
__Who resides in these walls of Hogwarts Founders,  
__Come from a place where all had failed,  
__Let us join in unity before we fall like before._

_Whether it be those from Gryffindor,  
__Those who are brave and true,  
__Who's courage wont waver unless subdued._

_Or Let it be those in Hufflepuff,  
__So loyal and devoted,  
__Lending a helping hand to those they know._

_Possibly those who come from Ravenclaw,  
__So smart and full of knowledge,  
__Ready to use their logic in the world._

_It might just be those in Slytherin,  
__Who's cunning and ambitious,  
__Ready and willing to show what they're worth.  
__We must gather and bond in this prestigious war,_

_Which will be the end of the end, or the end before the new beginning.  
__With the help of a newcomer, we shall prevail,  
__Let no darkness engulf our hearts, don't despair.  
__So put me on, I'll sort you well,  
__For this year's outcome will be important as well._

The hall fell silent with a few bouts of clapping from some of the occupants. Why was the sorting hat so determined on House unity? He had remembered the previous worlds warning from the Sorting Hat, and it confused him. What was it hinting, exactly?

He hardly paid any attention to the sorting of the first years. He was rather miffed with that old hat for mentioning him - he knew it had to be him. '_Come from a place where all had failed'_. How obvious was that?

Finally, all the younger students were sorted into their respectful houses and the food cluttered up on the tables after a few spoken words.

Harry hardly touched his plate, still not feeling hungry. He picked a bit at his pork and nibbled on a treacle tart, but otherwise left everything else untouched. After a painstaking hour, Dumbledore finally stood up and made the usual announcements, including introducing the new Defense teacher; Professor Eliza Braubaker.

Harry stared at the woman - she had to be in her forties. She was tall, with dark brown hair with grey streaks running through it. She looked stern - almost as stern as McGonagall. She wore her hair in a loose bun at the nape of her neck and had a small smile on her face.

Eventually, Dumbledore dismissed the student body to their dorms for the rest of the night.

Harry gladly stood up, feeling tired and a bit exhausted. The train rides always had a way of making him feel that way. He walked with the rest of Gryffindor out of the Great Hall, avoiding any eye contact from the teachers. He knew that they could easily break through his feeble, almost nonexistent occlumency shields.

After a long, draining walk up to the tower, Hermione told the students the password and allowed them all in, showing them where their dormitories were. Without saying anything to anyone, Harry made his way up to the seventh year's dormitory.

He nearly walked over to his old bed, but realized that his stuff wasn't at the end of it. He looked around, and spotted his trunk, and, Merlin forbid, box containing one very unwanted toad sitting at the end. Sighing to himself, he changed and lay down on the bed that was so unfamiliar to him.

He was beginning to really regret his wish in some ways.


	5. A Ferret's Insanity on Earth

a/n- by request of min, i changed the summary to the story a bit so that it allwos readers to know what they're going to read. this chappy isn't great because min wasn't feeling good and she wrote out a bit of it and I finished it so any incompleteness is because of me. I went back and added thigns so it might seem a bit awkward, but please bare with me as im not that good at writing. I stayed up for a long time writing this so I would really like to know what you all think.

Also, min wanted me to put this passage in here that she wrote for all readers of the story -

'Okay, so Rudulo (RubberDuckyLoser) and I have been writing this story, and most of you, or all of you, have no idea of the upcoming storyline. Allow me to explain a bit of what will be coming up: For those of you who like 'mysterious' and 'unknown' things, such as phenomenal objects, places, and other articles containing those words, might just like this story. Here are a few key words that will appear in the upcoming plot: The Bermuda Triangle, Gaia, The Island of Tartarus (you wont know about that, more than likely, as it's pretty much made up), and I'm pretty sure you all acquainted with 'Angst' and 'Action/Adventure', no? Well, this story will be an interesting one to write. Any questions may be asked, and either I or Rudulo will respond in the best way possible. Also, I'd like to note that this story will more than likely become SLASH. I'm sorry if you don't like it, but it's just the way the story is going to turn out, and the slash will be almost nonexistent. If the majority of you have a problem with it, we may change it. The main plot that I've taken the time to write now, is this: _Harry Potter falls into a universe where he takes the complete roll of Neville Longbottom, and vise versa. Going into his seventh year, Harry tries to get by with the newly acquained problem of his appearance, his attitude, and just about everything else. Shortly after the start of term, Harry overhears some of the teachers talking about an object named 'Gaia's Mirror' in which Voldemort is trying to get his hands on. While trying to get some information on the object, he's able to pry a few things from Draco Malfoy, who knows about the plans from his father. When the plot begins to unfold and Harry realizes just how dangerous it would be to allow Voldemort to get his hands on the mirror, he decides to escape from the living hell of Hogwarts with an unlikely allie in toe. Join Harry and Draco as they pry, spy, and travel in search of the ancient artifact that could be the end of humanity if it were to fall into the wrong hands, and are led to a very unlikely place - the Bermuda Triangle._ And I think I would also like to point out here, that I want to thank all the readers. It's always nice to know that people enjoy our work! And thanks for all the positive feedback, guys. It's great. - Min, xScenex'

So yea, that's what she had to say. This story has proved to be interesting for both of us so far and we hope u enjoy. thnx to all who reviewed last time, please keep the reviews coming!

Disclaimer- I own nothing but the plot which I share with xscenex (she deserves credit for this story to)

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The first day of lessons dawned bright and early for Harry. When the sun stretched across the curtains of his four poster bed, sneaking into the tiny cracks and landing annoyingly on his face, Harry finally gave up trying to sleep. 

His sleep had been quite fitful, and when he did fall asleep, dreams and images flittered into his mind of Sirius falling and Dumbledore being blasted away from the tower. Once, he even woke up and swore he heard _'kill the spare' _echoing into the darkness of the room.

Harry curled up tighter in a ball, wishing nothing more than for his Godfather to be there with him. A few nights at Sirius' home, he had woken up screaming, calling Sirius to his room where the older man would comfort him.

But he was at Hogwarts now, with almost no actual friends and therefore, he had no one to comfort him. It was odd, really, seeing things in a different light. Thinking back, he realized that Neville had never had any genuine friends and just sort of went along with everyone and everything, going along with the flow of life. If he ever went back to his own world, things would definitely change, Harry had thought to himself sometime in the night.

After a while, the sounds of waking roommates filled the air, followed by mumbling, cursing, and stumbling. At least that hadn't changed. Harry's stomach growled a bit, but at the same time, twisted unpleasantly at his nervousness. He wasn't looking forward to the upcoming day.

"Neville, hurry up and get out of the bathroom," Harry heard Ron whining from somewhere to the right of his bed.

The muffled answer couldn't be heard by Harry, but it produced an irritable sigh from Ron. "Oi, Seamus, toss me that shoe over there."

There was an exasperated sigh and a loud thump, followed by a long sentence of cursing. It was obvious that Ron had just gotten hit in the head with the shoe. Smiling a bit, Harry buried his face against his blanket, which he'd pulled up to his chin. His stomach once again twisted unpleasantly.

"Hey, Harry, you up yet?" Dean called out.

Harry's only reply was a muffled 'yes', which seemed to satisfy the occupants of the room. The raven haired Gryffindor listened to the morning noises, content in lying in his bed until the last minute when everyone else had left. He wasn't feeling his greatest, so he was just happy to be unbothered.

But just as Seamus and Dean left, he heard someone call his name out and soon, his curtains were ripped away from the bed. Light blinded Harry momentarily, but his vision was soon focused and he saw Neville and Ron standing in front of his bed.

"Alright? You've usually gotten up by now."

"I'm fine," Harry replied, pulling the blankets away and sitting up a bit. His pajama shirt had somehow unbuttoned halfway during the night, showing just how skinny he really was.

When he caught the other two boys staring, he glared slightly and buttoned it back up before swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

"Aren't you two going to breakfast?" he asked sharply, his mood flaring up for almost no reason. He was beginning to hate his mood swings.

"We were going to wait for you," Neville said uncertainly, glancing from Harry to Ron quickly.

Harry just shook his head ruefully, his raven locks falling into his thin face and over his slender shoulders. "There's no use in waiting for me."

This caused the other two Gryffindor's to share a look. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Silence reigned in the room for another moment before Ron said, "Harry, what happened to you, mate? Seriously, don't say it's nothing because I've learned with Neville here that when you say nothing, it's actually something."

Harry caught Neville glaring at Ron and chuckled a bit - albeit darkly; this caused the others to look at him oddly, even if it was a little fearfully. "Believe me, you don't want to know."

"But -"

Harry looked up at Neville and Ron, an almost crazed look in his eyes. He didn't know what was going on with him, but suddenly, he felt as if he wanted to show them that there was something about him that shouldn't be taken for granted. Since he'd arrived in that world, everyone thought him to be a weak boy - but soon, he would make them realize otherwise.

He stood up swiftly, brushing hair out of his eyes and stared up at the two boys who were each a foot taller than he. He smiled ruthlessly, a faraway look in his eyes while thoughts of Cedric, Sirius, and Dumbledore flitted through his mind. "You don't want to know…"

Brushing past the boys, he quickly rummaged through his trunk and pulled out a fresh uniform and stalked off into the bathroom. Just before the door shut fully, he heard Ron mutter, "What the bloody hell?"

After taking a shower and dressing, Harry realized that he wouldn't have time to actually sit down and eat breakfast, but he would have enough time to get down to the Great Hall before schedules were passed out.

Grabbing his bag and stuffing his books into it, he went down into the common room and out the portrait hole. The halls were practically empty, and he had no run-ins on the way to breakfast.

When he entered the hall, students were just finishing up their morning meal. He saw professor McGonagall handing out the schedules and walked over to her.

"Morning, Professor," he greeted.

She turned to look at him, and he knew she was taking in his appearance, but he ignored it. "Mr. Potter."

"May I have my schedule please?"

She nodded briskly and flicked through the papers in her hands until she found his. She handed him the parchment, "I'll see you after lunch."

He nodded and turned away. He stared down at his list and cursed to himself - double History of Magic with the Slytherin's. _Is this day just trying to go against me? _Harry reprehended to himself, staring at his schedule a bit longer. Two hours in class with Slytherin's would be pure torture.

Sighing melodramatically at his luck, he adjusted the strap on his bag and shifted it so that he could place his schedule into the pocket on the side before heading towards the doors that would lead him up a flight of stairs and towards the classroom.

Upon arriving, Harry found most of the Slytherin's and some of the Gryffindor's sitting about in the room, creating a type of barricade as the teen's all sat on different sides of the classroom.

Harry took a swift glance about, seeing that the best place for him to sit unbothered would be in a seat between both groups. He took a seat near the back, placing his belongings on the floor and sighed.

He hardly paid any attention as the class began to fill up more, but he did notice when someone began to walk towards him. He looked up and inwardly groaned when he realized that it was Malfoy heading his way.

"Potter," was the first greeting he received as the blonde strutted forward, staring in disgust at Harry.

"Malfoy," he deadpanned, shifting in his seat slightly.

"I think it's time to get even for what you did to me on the train," Malfoy snarled, attracting the attention of a few nearby Slytherin's. From the other side of the room, a few Gryffindor's stared questionably at them, and a few looked angrily at the blonde.

"Not this again," Harry groaned. He wasn't really feeling up to the whole fighting thing as his stomach was still twisting unpleasantly.

"Scared, Potter?"

"Not really," Harry rolled his eyes in frustration. "Just annoyed."

Fury shined within Malfoy's eyes, showing hatred for his very being. The blonde Slytherin pulled his wand out of his wand and pointed it at Harry's face.

Harry tensed a bit, not really enjoying the fact that he had a wand in his face. "Please remove your wand from in front of my face, Malfoy," the raven haired boy said trough gritted teeth.

"Why should I?"

"If you know what's good for you," Harry began but let the threat go unfinished, so as to let Malfoy use his imagination.

The Slytherin sneered angrily, "And what would you know about 'good' for anyone?"

Harry shrugged a bit and knocked the other boy's wand out of his face, feeling anger boiling up in his chest. Even though his depression dampened his mood swings, he still couldn't help it when he did get angry.

"I thought so, Potter. You know nothing about life, living happily with that idiot Black. You wouldn't know anything about the issues going on with The Earth. You're in your own little world, happy and pampered," Malfoy spat heatedly, surprising Harry greatly. What was the blonde so worked up about?

"What does this argument have to do with earth?" Harry asked, confused and annoyed.

The Slytherin grimaced a bit, and drawled arrogantly, "The Dark Lord will rule one day. You'll realize your place on The Earththen as long as it doesn't get into the wrong hands."

Harry stared up at the boy, face flushed with anger and confusion, "There you go with earth again. What the bloody hell does that have to do with this argument?"

The boy sneered nastily before putting his wand away and walking away, leaving Harry confused. Malfoy wasn't acting his usual self - he seemed… insane. He had been babbling about earth and it's meaning. And what was that about it getting into 'the wrong hands'? Was he talking about Dumbledore? Or maybe even Voldemort?

The whole lesson passed by, leaving Harry confused and bewildered. Many of the Gryffindor's who'd watched the exchange stared at him but he just ignored it all, and doodled absentmindedly on his parchment used for notes.

By the end of the lesson, the only thing Harry had succeeded in doing was giving himself a headache, which he knew would last for the rest of the day unless he took something for it; but he didn't want to go ask the school nurse for anything, in fear of being examined for other things with the way he looked.

The boy sighed and headed off to Herbology, knowing that the day would just get even more complicating and confusing.

After all, he was suspected to be a wiz at Herbology. Oh boy…

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Sorry if this chappy was a bit confusing. Hopefully it will all be explained soon. Anyway, pls review! 


	6. A Thunder Before Lightning

A/n- ok in this chapter, you might get confused and wonder why harry is acting the way he is. don't worry, he wont be like that for the whole story, but hes finally realizing what hes done and how things arent ever going to be the same. its just shock, so please dont hate me and/or min for this chapter. we'll try to update soon. for those of you who reviewed last time, we immensly thank you. so many people have put this story on alert and only a few review for it. not that we only update for reviews, but we do wonder what you all think and what your oppinions are. the only way to improve is to recieve critisism, and we really wish we'd get some but we're not begging. even a 'great job' would be nice but we cant do anything about the reviewing.

(Min: Don't take what she said the wrong way - we love reviews, but we don't write this for them. They're nice to have, and they really do help boost up our updating because we only write when we're in the mood for it - especially me - but they aren't necessary. I, myself, am just happy people are reading and enjoying, even if it's only a few. Thank you guys for all the feedback so far! It makes my day in so many ways.)

anyway, on with the story! (oh, ive finally started to add chapter titles! i might go back and put other titles for the others if its possible. min came up with the title for thsi chapter)

Disclaimer- I don't own anything but the plot, which I share with min

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A Thunder Before Lightning

ch. 6

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That following night, Harry found himself up in the owlery after curfew, writing a letter to Sirius. He was feeling quite depressed, confused, and angry all at the same time, and he didn't understand, which only succeeded in making him even angrier. He didn't know why, exactly, but his constant run-in's with Malfoy weren't helping his mood, nor where the looks he continued to receive from fellow students or teachers.

After signing his name on the bottom of the letter, he searched out one of the school owls and sent the letter off into the dreary night.

Harry leaned against the owlery door, staring out into the curtain or rain that fell heavily from the sky. He didn't now what to do anymore - school was definitely something he wished he could get away from. He used to love going to Hogwarts, but realizing now that Hermione and Ron weren't his friends made him feel like he were missing something huge in his life. They used to be the one's he counted on every year to be there with him; now they were gone.

Nothing was the same as before. In his old life, Sirius, his parents, and Dumbledore were dead, and war had already hit a high note. But in his current life, that was all changed. Voldemort hadn't made a huge move yet - which actually made him wonder what the wizard was up to. He was only ever quiet in his activity if he was planning something, and that usually wasn't a good sign.

Sighing heavily, the boy shifted a bit and stared around him. The owls were active, hooting and darting about restlessly, wanting to fly out in the night but unwilling to get wet from the rain. He vaguely noticed a familiar white owl up in the rafters and gulped down the tightening in his throat. He couldn't dwell on things that just weren't meant to be there. Hedwig was no longer his, and he had to deal with that.

Just as he dealt with everything else.

After a few more minutes of just standing in the doorway, the boy decided to head back inside before he was actually missed. He pulled his invisibility cloak over himself before heading off down the staircase and into the building.

The halls were dark, as was usual for the middle of the night. His footsteps echoed quietly around the walls as he walked down one of the many staircases that resided inside of the old castle.

After about fifteen minutes, Harry found himself turning a corner, only to hear voices coming from the far end of the next hall. He ducked behind a suit of armor, hoping that he wouldn't be caught by Filch or Snape.

As the voices got closer and the light from a lumos charm became visible enough to make out features, he realized that it was Dumbledore and the new defense teacher, Braubaker.

"Albus, I just know that's what You-Know-Who's after. It's the only possible thing," the woman stated.

"Eliza, I understand what you're saying, but we have no proof that he's got a student doing insider work for him," the older wizard stated tiredly. "We really don't have the evidence."

"Yes, but Albus, you must realize that it would be a Death Eater's child-"

"We have no proof of that, either," Dumbledore cut in.

"But it's obvious!" Braubaker exclaimed, waving her wand around a bit and casing eerie shadows around them, "There's no one else who'd be willing to do it."

The Headmaster sighed and Harry watched as he ran a hand over his beard, "Alas, even if that was true, we couldn't hold a child against their will for questioning without parental permission. The only thing we can do is try and find Gaia's Mirror before Voldemort can get his hands on it."

Harry strained his hearing, trying not to miss anything spoken by either of them. What was it that Voldemort was after?

"Then you must send out men to find it immediately! Gaia's Mirror is a dangerous artifact that will bring destruction if You-Know-Who gets a hold of it!"

Gaia's Mirror? Harry listened intently once again.

"But," Dumbledore said thoughtfully, "We have no clue to where the mirror is. It could be anywhere - the only thing we have that could lead us to the place are a few scattered clues in the library. Otherwise, there is nothing. In all my years, I have never stumbled across information of the whereabouts. It was hard enough finding out about the object itself. Obviously, it wasn't meant to find, Eliza."

"But He will find it if we don't," she said fearfully. "We can't let Him get it!"

Harry had to take a few steps closer to hear the rest of what was being said as the two professor's walked to the end of the corridor and Dumbledore mumbled, "We only have a matter of time before we find out who will get it."

Harry took in a deep breath, realizing he'd been holding it the entire time. What was that conversation about? What was it that the new defense teacher said Voldemort was after? Gaia's Mirror?

It didn't sound familiar to Harry. Obviously, it was like in his first year with the Philosopher's Stone. Only - he knew by instinct that he'd never heard of that object by anything, especially by a chocolate frog card.

Chuckling lightly to himself at old memories, of how ironic that whole situation in his first year had been, he started walking again down the corridor, being careful not to get too near the distant footsteps of the two professors, whom he guessed had just headed up a flight of stairs. Turning to the right, he headed up a different staircase that had just planted itself firmly after shifting position so that he would find him in the corridor that led to the Gryffindor Tower.

By the time he made it into the warm common room of his beloved House, it was empty, all except for a House Elf who had just popped out of sight at the noise of the portrait opening. Harry vaguely wondered if the elf was Dobby but banished the thoughts as soon as it brought a wave of sadness over himself.

Plopping down into an overstuffed armchair near the fire, he stared into the flames, his mind weary and working a mile a minute.

He still wasn't adapting as well as he'd hoped in his new home. When he had lived at Sirius' during the summer, he'd thought it would be better because of how life was then. But since he'd been thrust back into Hogwarts, where all his worries seemed to reside, he realized that things weren't what he had thought.

How did Neville put up with it? Being made fun of, having been looked down upon, and having no friends there to comfort him? Harry wished more than anything that Ron and Hermione would rush down from their dormitories and engulf him in their old conversations.

But he knew it wouldn't happen. They weren't his friends - never again would they be the same as they had once been. Making his wish that night at Aunt Petunia's was one of the most tragic he'd ever made - in gaining so little, he lost so much.

Sighing heavily, he placed his head against his shaking hands. He felt tears prickle at his eyelids but he held them back. There's no use in crying over spilt milk, right?

But it was so hard - all his life, he'd felt alone but was never truly by himself; now he was. He was completely lonely, with only a missing toad as his companion and that hardly helped the fact. Not that he wanted the blasted toad to be there…

Steering his mind away from those thoughts roughly, he forced himself to think of what he'd overheard the new Defense teacher and Dumbledore talking about.

So Voldemort was after something - something that obviously held power. But since when didn't Voldemort go after something that could more than likely do worse harm than he?

Harry wanted to laugh out loud, but kept the bubbling mirth inside. He didn't want anyone to overhear him and think him to be insane - although, that wouldn't be a first. Hadn't he been declared insane in his fifth year by the Daily Prophet and many of his peers?

But that hadn't happened to him in the new world. All that had happened to Neville and not him.

Not him…

He couldn't hold it in anymore. He felt like he was loosing his mind. He let out a loud, riotous laughter and clutched onto his hair in attempt to stifle the amusement with pain, finding it more and more hilarious as the seconds ticked by. The sound seemed loud in his ears, and oddly not like himself.

But he couldn't help himself; everything he had known himself to be was now gone. He wasn't 'just Harry', he realized. He wasn't even Harry anymore - he was Neville from his old life. Harry James Potter was gone. In his place was a man who had been stripped of all he had grown up to be.

Harry was so caught up in his sardonic amusement that he didn't hear when someone stepped down from the boys staircase. He continued to laugh, albeit quieting considerably as the reality was starting to slowly fade back into place, fighting to rid of the cloudy illusions that played in his mind. Was he going crazy?

Before he could think further, he heard someone cough lightly and his head jerked up to see the frightened and unsure face of Neville - the last person he wanted to see.

They stared at one another for a moment, Harry's chuckles finally dying out into the silence, despite the crackles from the nearby fire.

In that time, Harry took in the new Boy-Who-Lived's appearance once more. It was obvious he hadn't slept well as of yet, as large, dark rings surrounded his eyes and his skin looked pale and clammy. His hands shook with well hidden emotions, and Harry only guessed that he'd had a vision.

"Er- Harry?"

Focusing his attention back on Neville's eyes, he inquired, "Yes?"

"W-was that you, down here just now?"

"Do you see anyone else?" Harry spat irritated, waving exasperatedly around the room.

This only caused Neville's face to cloud over with an unknown emotion as he shook his head unsurely. Harry realized he must look and seem like some St. Mungo's patient who'd lost his mind. And in a way, he felt he had. The reality of the situation was pressing into him - he felt as if he'd suffocate from it. And the worst part of this all was that it had been his choice to take such a road.

"Can you believe it?" Harry asked, more to himself than to Neville. "So ironic, really…"

Neville stepped back a bit, still confused but Harry dismissed the fact as he wasn't even looking at the boy anymore. He pressed his fingers together, and sat facing a blank spot in the wall opposite of him.

"It's changing now," he continued, "changing in ways I'd never believed possible."

"Harry…"

"And it's all because of me!" he laughed loudly. "Me! Always me!"

"Harry, you're acting cr-"

"What? _Crazy_?" he stood up so suddenly that it startled Neville. He whipped around so that his back faced the roaring fire and his face was plunged into dark shadows. "This whole place is _crazy _Neville. The whole lot of it!"

"Harry, I think you need hel-"

"No!" Harry spat once more, brushing hair out of his face and for the first time that night, he realized he'd been crying. His cheeks were wet with the tears he'd never known had fallen. He stared at his damp hand, wondering when he'd started weeping.

"Look, I'm going to go get McGonagall. You need help," Neville stated and backed away slowly with fear in his eyes. What the fear was for - Harry's sanity or his own safety - he didn't know.

Harry grabbed roughly at Neville's shoulders, shaking him thoroughly and nearly shouting, "They can't do anything to help me! No one can-"

"Let go of me!" the boy tried shrugging Harry off him but the bony fingers gripped tighter, showing strength that he himself hadn't known he'd possessed.

Suddenly, Harry found himself on the floor with a heavy body above him and the side of his face throbbing painfully. He lay there, dazed and a bit disoriented for a bit until he realized that the weight had lifted from him and a person stood above him.

Neville stood there, breathing heavily with a raised fist. He backed away slowly as Harry tried to get up but quickly sunk to his knees as his weight gave way.

His ears rung from the force of the hit against his face and his eyesight was a bit unfocused. He looked once more at Neville before his head dropped and he cupped his face in his hands.

Reality was once more closing in on him and he'd realized his actions. He truly felt as if he were going insane. He didn't want that - and it was his own fault for falling into the insanity that assaulted him. Or maybe it was his Aunt's, he thought bitterly, remembering that it was her who had given him the object that granted his one wish.

He wanted that object back now, to get home. He wanted to go back to his old life, his old friends. He wanted to go back to what he knew and _understood._

"I want to go home," he mumbled, rocking forward a bit to stop the aching in his chest. "I want to leave here, I want to go home."

He wasn't aware that Neville had disappeared. He rocked backwards seconds later, his hands sliding away from his face and into his hair. He stared at a ink stain on the rug in front of him that he'd vaguely remembered from his own world.

"I want to go home," he repeated, louder this time. He continued to say that until he was nearly shouting it, his mind settling into final shock as his body only responded in constant rocking movements.

That's how McGonagall found him moments later, followed closely by Neville and a few students who had woken up - those that included Ron, Hermione, and Ginny; his former friends.

Oh, how he wanted to go home.

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a/n- so what did you think? like it? hate it? pls review and tell us what you think! but it's up to you if you do or don't, either way, we hope you enjoyed reading! 


	7. IMPORTANT AN! Teaser for ch 7

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from the Harry Potter books and/or movies is not mine.**

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**STORY ABANDONED! Go to xScenex's account to read the updated story.**

**A/N: NEW AND OLD READERS, PLEASE READ THIS! This story had been abandoned on this account. Rubber Ducky Loser has lost her internet, and I (Min, the second writer of the story) have taken the story onto my account so that I can update it personally. If you wish to go there, type in the penname xScenex in the search bot to find me or go to Rubber Ducky Loser's favorite author list. I have re-written some of the chapters that are posted here, and they have a few different scene's and I've fixed some spelling mistakes. Plus, there are more chapters on the one on my account. Please go there instead of here - this one will NOT be updated. This page is only a teaser for the next chapter already posted on my account so that it wont be deleted (hopefully) so that all readers can see this. - Min, aka xScenex**

_I've only put this up in place of the last author's note because people either didn't read it, see it, or chose to ignore it and continue to wait for updates here. I don't want them to wait on something that wont be updated._

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Teaser for next chapter: 

"He's fine. You got the worst end of it, I think." Sirius chuckled a bit, but it was just to hide his true feelings on the situation, "McGonagall ended up having to stun you in the end."

There- another flash through his mind. Everyone stood taller than him. Fear, confusion once more. A stern face; commanding something. A flash of light…

"I-I don't remember attacking anyone," he stated truthfully. "Why would I attack Neville, of all people?"

"Harry," Sirius said, eyes avoiding his. "Ever since you came back from school before the summer, you've been acting strangely. I thought it was just a change in you, but well… I'm beginning to worry. I don't want to scare you-"

"Scare me? Sirius, I'm fine! There's nothing wrong with me," Harry stated incredulously.

"Look," he said sternly, looking straight at the green-eyed boy. "Poppy said that there might be something wrong with your mind - nothing she can't fix, I assure you," he added quickly, seeing the look of anger on Harry's face. "But she thinks that something might have happened that struck a nerve and it's effecting your mind somehow."

"I'm bloody fine!" Harry shouted, "How the hell could you say that I'm… I'm mental!"

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_**GO TO xScenex's ACCOUNT FOR THE REST!  
**IF YOU DIDN'T READ THE A/N ABOVE, PLEASE DO SO FOR INFORMATION OF WHERE THIS STORY IS NOW LOCATED._

Thank you for reading, and sorry for the switch. Hope you guys don't mind. I only put this on here in place of the old author's notebecause people either haven't read the last author's note, or chose to ignore it and continue waiting for updates on here.


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